


Pigsty

by alyjude_sideburns



Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: Established Relationship, Humor, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-13
Updated: 2014-01-13
Packaged: 2018-01-08 12:25:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 791
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1132629
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alyjude_sideburns/pseuds/alyjude_sideburns
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>John isn't happy co-habitating with Rodney - or is he?</p><p>Originally published in 2007</p>
            </blockquote>





	Pigsty

**Author's Note:**

> This was my first SGA story.

 

 

"This place stinks - and it's a mess."

Rodney glanced up from the two month old magazine he was re-reading to see the speaker pacing the length of the room in what was, for him, an agitated manner. Of course, it was doubtful anyone else would have pegged the pacing as agitated, but Rodney prided himself on knowing Colonel John Sheppard pretty damn well now.

He considered ignoring the man, but that would probably result in a lot of exaggerated sighing that would most definitely interfere with his reading. Of course, it was an old magazine...so maybe he'd aggravate John even more. An easy task, but often rewarding. Returning his attention to the magazine, he said casually, "Your quarters - your mess."

John picked up a pair of boxer shorts and waved them in the air. "Yours, McKay. Yours."

Adopting an air of someone suffering in silence - a near impossible feat for him, Rodney said, "You're the one who removed them and tossed them over your shoulder. I'm just glad you found them. Last time, I left here without and I don't care what anyone says, going commando is extremely uncomfortable. I had a rash for days."

"Poor baby."

The lack of sympathy or understanding in John's voice said loud and clear that he couldn't care less about Rodney's rash - and it had been bad. Itched like a son-of-a-bitch. He was certain he'd been waddling too - although that might have had less to do with the rash and more with...yes, well.

"If you don't like the mess, clean it up," he finally said.

"There are clothes all over the place. For god's sake, your t-shirt is hanging from--"

"You threw them there in a fit of lust - the smell is the result of adequate sex - and this place was a pigsty _before_ we got here last night." Not exactly true, but his goal was aggravation, not honor.

"At least I'm dressed," John said rather petulantly - a tone that invariably meant Rodney had won the aggravation battle.

"You never objected to my lack of clothing before," he said, trying hard to keep the smugness from his voice.

"Before? McKay, this is only our second...you know."

Deciding a touch of hurt anger was called for, he snapped, "I guess the fucking bloom is off the fucking rose and my nakedness now disturbs you." He reached under his ass and tugged at the blanket. Once he had it, he draped it over the lower half his body. "Happy now?"

"I didn't say you had to cover... Oh, hell."

Rodney resisted the urge to laugh but that was because he was getting horny again and the fact was, John hadn't been telling the whole truth when he said he was dressed. He wasn't - entirely - since he was wearing his boxers (he'd found them scrunched up inside Rodney's shoe - which was still a mystery as yet to be solved) and black t-shirt. His hair was standing up in spikes and his five o'clock shadow was more like nine o'clock - and of course, he'd never looked sexier.

Time to give the screws one final twist....

He put the magazine down and said, "Hand me my shorts while I find the rest of my clothes and put you out of your misery by clearing out. Besides, I'm hungry."

"You're always hungry - and you don't have to - you know - go."

"I seem to be messing up your home-away-from-home. Wouldn't want to put you out."

John's eyes narrowed. "You're playing with me, aren't you? I can tell, you know. You have no intention of getting dressed and leaving, there was no edge in your voice."

"No," Rodney agreed, even if he had, ultimately lost. "The edge is somewhere else entirely - in case you missed it."

John glanced down at the blanket - and grinned. "Ah. Now that's an edge I recognize."

"So can we stop talking about general housekeeping and get down to a different kind of mess?"

John looked around his quarters - sighed - took a sniff of their mingled odors - and decided that maybe he kind of liked the fact that some of the mess was due to Rodney's presence. He could - maybe - live with it. He pulled off his t-shirt. "Actually, I'm thinking it's time to make the bed," he said as he walked toward Rodney.

"Yeah, that's what you want to make all right."

As John climbed onto the bed - and consequently onto Rodney - he was glad they'd ended up in his quarters, mess or no mess. Rodney's bed would have been impossible.

But no matter what - right after this next bout of sex, they were going to clean house.

Suddenly he reared up and looked down into Rodney's eyes. "Adequate? Did you say _adequate_ sex?"

 

-30-


End file.
